


Ghost Riders in the Sky

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Read My Lips [44]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6518884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: <i>Stargate Multiverse, Any, caught offworld in a severe storm</i>. The team bunks down in a puddle jumper to wait out a storm and needs to find a way to pass the time. Ronon POV. Set early season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost Riders in the Sky

“The last time this happened,” Teldy said, “you, John, and Lorne were on Atlantis, playing Yippie-Ki-Yay with the Genii.”  
  
“Mostly John and Lorne,” Rodney said. He and John were fiddling with the inertial dampeners to make sure the puddle jumper didn’t blow away. Lorne had managed to land it beneath a rock outcropping that was sheltering them from the worst of the storm - howling wind, lashing rain, and thunder and lightning that had everyone but John flinching at the sound of it.  
  
Ronon peered out the front window of the jumper. This kind of storm would have been the death of him when he was alone and a Runner. It was the reason he’d always fled from a planet at the first hint of bad weather.  
  
“How long will the storm last?” Ronon sat back down on the bench between Teyla and Teldy.  
  
“No clue,” Rodney said. “But the jumper shouldn’t blow away. Or get washed away.”  
  
“What if Elizabeth tries to send a team after us?”  
  
“Luckily the wormholes are only one-way,” Rodney said, “so once a stable wormhole is established, we can radio through, let her know not to send a team through and that we won’t return until we can open a wormhole their direction without bringing Noah’s flood with us.”  
  
“Noah?” Teyla asked.  
  
“Never mind,” Rodney said, waving a hand dismissively. “The important thing to do is make sure a transmission will get through when Elizabeth dials in. I’m going to make some adjustment to the comm systems, boost the signal a little.”  
  
He climbed out of the cockpit and wandered into the back, started opening control panels. John went to help him.  
  
“So...now what?” Ronon asked.  
  
Lorne said, “I have a pack of cards.” He felt his pockets, came up with a pack of playing cards that every soldier seemed to carry.  
  
Teyla looked dubious. “I am not very skilled at Earther card games.”  
  
“Neither am I,” Ronon said. “We could play some other games, though.”  
  
Rodney poked his head out of the back. “I could use an extra pair of hands here.”  
  
“You have John,” Lorne called back.  
  
Rodney rolled his eyes. “An extra, extra pair of hands.”  
  
And that was how all of them ended up in the back, handing around screwdrivers and wrenches and alligator clips. Ronon had somehow become the desk, holding Rodney’s laptop while he poked around on it. Teyla was arched awkwardly, holding alligator clips to control panels. Lorne and John were having the rapid conversation, John signing, Lorne speaking.  
  
Thunder crashed outside.  
  
Teyla flinched.  
  
The clips slipped.  
  
The entire jumper went dark, except for the blue glow from Rodney’s laptop.  
  
“I am very sorry,” Teyla began.  
  
John, Ronon realized, could not speak in the dark.  
  
Rodney sighed. “It’s fine. Let me just -”  
  
Lorne and Teldy came up with little handheld flashlights. Teldy aimed one at Teyla’s hands, the other at the control panel. Rodney directed John to take over for Teyla, who kept flinching under the noise of the storm, and then Lorne had to hold a flashlight in his teeth so John could see him signing, and after being crowded uncomfortably close for fifteen minutes, the light came back on.  
  
“There,” Rodney said. “Signal boosted. I’ll power down all but necessary life support systems and we can wait till we’re overdue for check-in.”  
  
Teldy looked at her watch. “That’s not for another four hours.”

They huddled together on the benches and pilot chairs, going through their tac vests for food and other supplies. John had pens and a notebook in addition to his power bars (including spare power bars for Rodney). Lorne had his deck of cards and a space blanket. Teyla had spare knives and ammo. Teldy had C4 and spare ammo. Ronon had spare knives and spare knives. Rodney had spare power bars and a set of mini screwdrivers.  
  
Sorting out their gear and rationing their food took all of half an hour.  
  
“So...now what?” Ronon asked.  
  
Rodney was humming to himself, twitching his hands. John wasn’t paying any attention to what Rodney was saying, gnawing on part of a power bar and scribbling in his notebook. Even though Lorne had taught everyone how to speak John’s language, everyone spoke it a little differently. Lorne’s hands looked like fluttering birds, quick, darting, still hard for Ronon to read at times when he was going full-speed. Teyla’s hands were smooth, graceful, every sign sliding into another, like she was dancing with her hands. Teldy’s hands were sharp, careful, and she looked like she was trying to stab something. John’s hands were like starbursts, quick, sudden flurries of motion. His hands were beautiful. Ronon still felt like a clumsy, fumbling child, despite three years speaking John’s language.  
  
Teldy picked up the tune Rodney was humming. She didn’t even seem to notice she’d done it. And then Lorne picked it up too.  
  
“I do not understand,” Teyla said, peering at Rodney’s hands. “Falling into a burning ring of fire sounds painful, and yet you also speak of love.”  
  
Rodney blinked at her. “What?”  
  
Teyla repeated the words Rodney had been signing.  
  
“Oh. I - was I signing?” He blushed a little. “I used to do that, to practice my signs. Listen to songs and sign along to the lyrics. I guess I still kinda do that.”  
  
“You were all humming the same song,” Ronon said. “It was kinda creepy.”  
  
“I don’t mind Johnny Cash,” Teldy said. At Teyla’s puzzled look, Teldy explained, “He's a famous musician, back on Earth. Sang songs and played the guitar.”  
  
“Like Mehra,” Teyla said, realization dawning.  
  
“Yes, like Mehra.” Teldy smiled. “I didn’t realize you were a Cash fan, Rodney. Figured you’d be the Rush type. Or the Beethoven type.”  
  
“Not every Canadian worships Rush.” Rodney frowned at her.  
  
“Lorne was humming too,” Ronon pointed out.  
  
Lorne shrugged. “I’m not a huge Cash fan, but it’s a pretty catchy song.”  
  
“What does it sound like?” Teyla asked. “When you sing it aloud?”  
  
Rodney cast John an apprehensive look, which made no sense, because John was trying to build something out of Lorne’s playing cards and seemed perfectly content. But then Rodney cleared his throat and began to sing. His voice was not particularly beautiful, but it was clear, pleasant. Lorne’s voice was a little rougher, but pitched to match Rodney’s. Teldy’s voice was surprisingly sweet when she joined in. Rodney signed as he sang, and Lorne basically signed whenever he spoke unless he was holding a weapon. Teldy joined in, and Ronon realized that not only were they swaying together, but they were swaying to the rhythm of the rain drumming down around them. The wind was still howling arrhythmically, but the thunder seemed to have mostly abated, only the occasional distant rumble.  
  
Lightning slashed across the sky, illuminating the interior of the jumper briefly, midday bright, and Ronon saw John’s expression, wide-eyed, frozen. And then he lifted his hands and - joined in. Signed right along with the others, as if he knew the words by heart.  
  
Rodney faltered when he noticed John signing along, but John smiled, nodded, and so Rodney kept singing, and they all kept signing, and when the song was done, Teldy laughed.  
  
“Wow. I haven’t done that since...summer camp in eighth grade, I think.”  
  
Ronon knew there were rare occasions would Earthers would sing together - for birthdays or other holiday celebrations, like Christmas and New Year. They had special songs for those occasions. And the marines had song-chants they recited when they were on marching drills. But he’d never seen anyone sit and just sing together because they knew the same songs.

John signed, “I miss Johnny Cash, but the winners with the girls were always ‘Don’t Stop Believing’, ‘Open Arms’, and ‘Faithfully’.”  
  
Lorne spoke for John as he always did, half a second behind John’s hands, and then he paused, blinked. “You remember Journey?” he asked.  
  
“Journey was a popular group of musicians on Earth,” Teldy said. “Some of their songs were sweeping and romantic and often...effective for wooing girls.” Judging by her expression, they wouldn’t have been effective for wooing her.  
  
Teyla cleared her throat. “John,” she said, signing carefully, “how do you know what music sounds like?”  
  
“I used to listen to it,” he said, and Lorne looked poleaxed as he spoke. “Before I lost my hearing. Played guitar, too.” He made a strumming motion and looked wistful.  
  
Ronon knew John had a voice, could speak, that he must have been able to hear long enough to learn how to speak. Rodney reached out and curled a hand around John’s shoulder, squeezed gently.  
  
John smiled, and Ronon couldn’t help but look away, sensing he was intruding on a private moment.  
  
But then John said, “In weather like this, you know what song we have to sing?”  
  
“What?” Teldy asked.  
  
John grinned. “Ghost Riders in the Sky!”  
  
After they made it back to Atlantis, all it would take was one of them humming the song for the others to pick it up, signing as they sang, and John would join in.  
  
Months later, Ronon decided Jonathan McNeil was an okay kid when he joined in one time without missing a beat.


End file.
